


Still

by CelticBabs13



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Canon - Video Game, Canon Compliant, Canon Het Relationship, Extended Scene, F/M, Love, Making Love, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 21:22:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20607536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticBabs13/pseuds/CelticBabs13
Summary: In the Witcher 3 Wild Hunt video game, Geralt meets up with Yennefer at the royal palace in Vizima, and that scene lacked something big in my opinion. Geralt and Yennefer hadn't seen each other for 2 years, of which one of those years he had no memory of her. Now that he had recovered from his amnesia, he spent 6 months searching for her. Finally, they were reunited at the royal palace. I had assumed this was where we'd get to "see" Geralt and Yen truly reunited and when it didn't happen, was disappointing to say the least.This work is my vision of that missing scene.**Content Warning - This scene contains an intimate love sceneMy gift to VicOfThor - my beta reader for my "Witcher Something More" novel. Vic - I couldn't have done that without your constant encouragement and praise. You are an amazing man and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really hope you love this scene - written just for you. :)





	Still

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VicofThor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicofThor/gifts).

Beautiful fan art by dire-sin

** ** ** _Still_ **

**Vizima, Temeria**

**The Royal Palace, ** **Belleteyne1272**

Drumming his fingers on his knee, he huffed out an irritated sigh. Rising from the stone bench in front of a blossoming tree in the palace courtyard gardens, he stalked over to the emperor’s chamberlain standing like a weathered sentry near the door. He glowered at the man. “Supposed to talk to Yennefer. The Sorceress. The emperor had said so himself. You heard him.”

Bowing his head in a polite, but stiff nod, the chamberlain’s expression did not change from the stony expression he had bore all along. “And you will, Master Witcher of Rivia. Patience. Madame Sorceress will see you when she is able.”

Dammit, what took her so long? And what the hell was she doing anyway? Growing out her hair? Pacing the open courtyard corridor, Geralt scowled fiercely at no one in particular though nearby guards eyed him warily. He huffed out another impatient sigh tugging at the sleeves of the doublet he wore. Why did he have to dress in Nilfgaardian finery like everyone else? More than comfortable in leather and silver studded armor, he should have been able to wear that instead of cramming his large frame in a tight doublet one often wore to banquets and... he sighed, royal visits.

_Yen, why are you taking so long?_

In such a hurry to escort him to the royal palace, they rode all night and had to fight off an attack by the Wild Hunt at one point at breakneck speed. And why the hell were they after them anyway? They didn't do anything to provoke them. Yen's magic thwarted their assault and they made it to the imperial city in one piece, however, more than a few of the emperor's soldiers did not make it.

Upon reaching the palace, he had looked forward to some quality time with her, but no, the chamberlain gave him his own bed chamber and didn't waste any time having him bathed and shaved. Then dressed in black velvet with silver embroidered Nilfgaardian finery, he had an audience with the emperor. Without Yen's presence.

Oh, the meeting with Emhyr went swimmingly enough. He believed his daughter, Ciri, had returned and commissioned him to find her. Like he had to be persuaded. But fathers would do anything for their daughters. Emhyr told him Yennefer would inform him of the details - but apparently, too busy to give him the time of day, he'd have to wait. After all, adviser to the emperor would keep one busy.

And so he waited. 

All of that expected, but he had been tirelessly searching for her for the last six months. He searched for her that long, but he hadn’t seen his lover in two years or more. Ironically, last night she had found him and Vesemir at the inn at White Orchard and finally, he saw her again… smelled her again… talked to her… Then to not see her for a day? Aggravating, to say the least.

Curbing his impatience, his anxiousness turned from eager anticipation to a more unpleasant feeling. A long time had passed since last they spoke. Did she still…? Would she want…? Did she know about Triss or would she scold him and tear him apart?

An impatient cough from behind startled him out of his thoughts. The chamberlain scowled wearing the expression as if it were a part of his uniform; it never changed.

“Madame Sorceress will see you now, Master Witcher.”

_ At last. _Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, Geralt followed the royal butler through the door. Stepping aside, the man bowed, his outstretched arm pointing to another open door at the far end of the room. "She awaits you in the antechamber beyond. When you are through, I'll be waiting outside.” With another bow, he retreated out and closed the door behind him with a soft boom.

Eager and apprehensive at the same time, Geralt padded slowly by the large hearth. A gentleman standing before it watched him and nodded. Dressed in richly fine attire in dark hues, his clean shaven and neat appearance matched everyone else around here. Clearly Nilfgaardians valued their appearances greatly. The man looked vaguely familiar… He stole a closer look. Ambassador var Attre? Yeah, made sense. Of course he'd frequent court when necessary. Nodding his greeting, the ambassador returned it with a nod.

Geralt approached the door to the antechamber. Stepping just inside the large study, its walls were lined with bookshelves of various heights and types of rich wood, large plush furniture he'd love to stretch out on, but he paid no attention to the room. Only the stunning woman standing at the far side of the chamber commanded his attention. 

_There she was_…

Near a table, she stood resplendent with a full mane of wild raven hair shining in the candlelight, a storm of curls cascading over her shoulders and down her back. It had always mesmerized him. 

She wore an exquisite outfit he'd not seen before. Having traded her customary black and white travel attire for an alluring and rather immodest short black skirt underneath a longer skirt with the sides split up to her waist exposed shapely thighs much to his delight. And those legs, adorned with black lace thigh-high stockings lining the above-the-knee leather high-heeled boots. He sighed and grinned, heat coursing through him.

A black off-the-shoulder blouse exposed pale slender shoulders and its keyhole neckline gave him a glimpse of ample enough cleavage. Soft and feathery peacock feathers in brilliant jewel tones accessorized the neckline giving it a unique fashion statement. A dark brown corset with a black studded belt hugged her waist accentuating feminine curves he ached to caress. Another brown belt hung low gracing slim hips. Tight brown leather gloves stretched up her forearms completed the outfit. And of course, the ever present obsidian star pendant around her throat on a black velvet ribbon shimmered and gleamed in the firelight.

She left him breathless… and hungry. 

Holding his breath, he crossed the room, silently, slowly, never taking his heated gaze from her, raking over her form as if it were the first time seeing her. And in a way it was. The first since he had regained his memory six months ago. Before, she had merely been an image he chased, only existing in his dreams as he slept. Now, more than a memory, more than an image... she was here, very real and full of life.

The closer he came, the stronger her perfume registered in his mind already racing with impure thoughts. Savoring the aromas of lilacs mixed with gooseberries perfume, he had forgotten the effect that fragrance had on him. Potent and exhilarating, she had no idea what it did to him. Or maybe she did.

Turning around, breathtaking violet eyes framed in black liner and thick lashes settled on him. He ceased to breathe. Her gaze swept over him, the glint in her eyes and a barely noticeable lift of a finely arched kohl darkened brow indicated her approval. 

"Geralt… forgotten how handsome you are void of blood, guts, and half a year's growth of unkempt facial hair. You wear black velvet dashingly. Too bad you don't wear it more often."

Hurdle one cleared.

She approved his appearance. And judging by her musky scent, one he honed in on passed her familiar fragrance, she was more than pleased by his presence. 

He aroused her. Second hurdle cleared. He couldn't help the grin spread across his mouth.

Dipping his head in a gentlemanly bow, he relaxed some, but still maintained his guard until convinced she harbored no grudges. She must have learned by now he had developed an intimate relationship with her best friend, Triss Merigold, due to his temporary memory loss. Understandable, really. How would he have remembered his only true love crippled with severe amnesia? Understandable to him, sure, but would she?

Forced to wear the tight and uncomfortable fancy garb, he pulled annoyed expression, always easy to do when wearing this crap. "Hate doublets. Always too tight and it pinches everywhere. Can't wait to get it off."

Violet eyes glinted blue-purple fire. Her smile, almost seductively playful gave him promise. 

_ Don't lose your guard… _

"I'd take that as an invitation, but it'll have to wait--"

"No, Yen. Done waiting.” Emboldened, he stepped closer and softly grasped her elbow. Her eyes flashed for a split second, then softened. “Spent the last half year searching for you. And you found me, ironically, rushed me here for an audience with the emperor then I don't see you for another day. Waited outside for a few hours and now that we're together…" Standing tall directly before her, he towered over her small frame, even with heeled boots, she barely reached his shoulders. “Let’s talk later. Now I want to--”

“My… aren't we in a hurry, Geralt,” she whispered with a slight toss of her curls, and pushed gently against his chest. The playful gleam in her eyes darkened a bit.

He raked his gaze over her. “Can you blame me? Haven’t seen you in two years, Yen."

The gleam returned. “No, I cannot blame you. I'm inhumanly beautiful and you are driven by your cock. It's only natural."

Blinking at her crass insult, he frowned.

Turning away slightly, her gaze narrowed. “Mean to tell me you didn't go back to your darling Triss? After all, you fucked her for nigh on a year."

Hurdle number three clocked him where it hurt. He sighed attempting to curb annoyance. “Yen, I had lost my memory.” That should have explained it all, but he oughta have known better.

Her eyes narrowed again. “Really… Not falling for that excuse, Geralt.”

Of course not. Why would she? Anger flared within. And she saw it too in his eyes, he could tell. How could she not realize he didn't remember she even existed let alone that they were in a relationship? “Not an excuse, Yen, it’s the truth. You can’t find even a scrap of understanding?”

Lowering her eyes a moment, she leaned back against the table. The fabric of her blouse stretched over her breasts, the shape of their tips straining against the cloth enticingly visible. He swallowed focusing on something else. Her ruby lips… violet eyes...

Shaking out her curls, she met his gaze again. “Let’s drop it, Geralt. Don’t want to talk about it--"

"Good. Neither do I." 

Peering at him with obvious appreciation, she added as a side thought, "You haven't changed."

He watched her expression unsure by her tone if that was a compliment or not. "You haven't. Not even a bit." Keeping his tone neutral, he let her guess if his statement was one or not.

The crackling of the large hearth was the only sound in the chamber. Ambassador var Attre's distant deep smooth voice floated to them as he spoke with someone in the other room.

She stared at him. And he at her.

"Now, you see why I'm here at court? For once, Emhyr is an ally." She broke the silence with a genuine statement, void of the imperial coldness she often used.

Nodding, he scanned the room making sure there were no prying eyes or ears. "Yeah, and it seems I've joined you."

Spotting parchment on the table next to her, he focused on the ink etching depicting a beautiful young woman with pale hair. Was that…? Could it be?

Following his gaze, Yen glanced down and smiled. "That's her, Geralt. Our little witcher is now a young lady. That's what she looks like now, at least according to the limited talents of our agents."

He took a closer look. Yeah, it was her… and they captured the scar on her cheek too. Despite it though, she looked beautiful. "Heh, she's grown up..."

"How long has it been since you two were at Kaer Morhen together?"

Still studying the portrait, he shook his head, thinking. "Gotta be… at least ten years. That would make her--

"Twenty-three years old," Yen finished his thought for him.

Twenty-three. Wow. The last time he saw Ciri - she was roughly sixteen or seventeen and that was what… seven years ago? She was no longer a child anymore. No longer a terrified, lonely and desperate little girl, but a fully grown woman.

"The Wild Hunt is after her, Geralt..."

"Is that why they attacked last night? But Ciri wasn't with us. Why were they after us, then?"

"Me," came her whispered confession. "They were after me, Geralt. Following my constant magical footprint, much like they follow Ciri's. Clearly, they still think by getting to me… or us, will draw her out--"

"Just what do they want with her anyway?"

Cold eyes flashed again. "Next time I see them, Geralt, I'll be sure to ask."

He scowled at her biting sarcasm. 

"I know as much as you do," she clarified without the sarcasm this time. "I don't know what they want. Can only imagine it has to do with her Elder Blood. And what they aim to do with it…" her voice trailed off, her fingers absently fondling the star pendant at her throat. "I've been trying to locate her with magic, Geralt, but all it ends up doing is leading the Hunt to me."

His gaze snapped back to hers. "You mean last night wasn't the first? They've attacked you before?"

"Yes," she admitted softly, as if admitting that was difficult.

Explains why she'd been traveling at neck breaking speed lately. He could tell by the tracks her horse left she'd been running from something. 

Rising from the table, she stood before him with hands on hips. "No more magic. At least not nearly as much as I've been using. It's too dangerous and I can't risk guiding them to Ciri should we find her. Need to turn to more conventional means, Geralt." Her piercing gaze held his steady. "To the best tracker I know."

Raking fingers through stormy curls, he needed to convey his sincerity and earnestness. "I'll find her, Yen,” he grated in a hoarse whisper. Her gloved hands gripped his forearms in desperate response. “Not because Emhyr hired me… or because you’re asking me to.” Cupping her cheeks, he gently shook her with his next words, her curls bouncing with a movement of their own. “I'll find her, Yen, because she's our daughter and she needs us."

Yennefer closed her eyes for a brief moment, her features showing the force of her emotions. She clung to him, hanging onto his words. Relaxing then, she leaned into him. Smoothing his hands from her face to her shoulders, he squeezed them and the tension left her body. Pulling her close, he found her lips and the tension also evaporated from him at her acceptance and need for his affection.

Stillness settled around them. The fire roared and snapped inside the grate. The voices in the other room quieted to a murmur, her heart beat louder and faster. Their touch ignited a more desperate need within them both. He felt it - in her as he did within him. Tracing his fingers along her jawline with a feathery touch, he deepened the kiss, capturing her lips beneath his own with masterful movements that had the desired effect. She melted against him, a soft sigh on her lips.

He buried his fingers in the softness of her locks, holding her captive. Sighing against her mouth, he breathed her name on barely a whisper. How he had longed and dreamed of this moment. For the last six months, since the moment he had remembered she existed and they had a history together, he hungered for her. Yearned for her more than ever.

Her gentle touch on his neck fingering his long hair sent pleasurable shivers down his spine and settled in his groin. Gave him hope she still wanted him despite his entanglement with her best friend, though they had ended that relationship once he had regained his memory and went off in search of Yen.

A wave of need so strong gripped him and left him breathless. Hoisting her off the floor, he moaned when her thighs wrapped around him, gripping him hard. He held her up, clutching her bottom and kneading the soft flesh there. She uttered something, words he couldn’t grasp, but the breathy sighs revealed all. Her kisses grew needy and demanding, possessing his lips in practiced and eager movements. Fingernails scraped over his skull, digging into him, and he gently bit her bottom lip. Murmuring something again, he couldn’t fathom what she was trying to tell him, so he sat her down upon the table shoving her skirt up as far as it would go.

“Find her, Geralt." Her whisper was clear that time, her fingers working frantically at the laces of his trousers. "I know you will."

“Found her once before, Yen. Will do it again. With or without Emhyr’s help.”

Impatient, he leaned in and suckled the tips of her breasts right through the fabric of her blouse. Arching her back, her fingers lost their grip on the laces. Reaching behind her, he swept away everything on the table: scrolls, candle stands, books, and quills to the side, clearing the way for her to lay back, her wild curls fanning out around her. Hands gripping her slim waist, he tugged her forward just a bit and finished untying the laces himself. Within a breath, his need found home, the one place he ached to be. She gasped at his invasion, writhing upon the table with arms outstretched on either side of her, knocking anything to the floor that might have been in the way, including the etching of their daughter. It fluttered to the floor near his feet.

Slowly, he exhaled, calming himself, determined to savor this moment, for it would be over all too quickly. They would part again soon, maybe tonight, maybe at first light, for he was once again on the hunt. This time for Ciri, the closest thing to a daughter they would ever have. But until they parted, he planned on doing exactly this until the moment he left. They only had a few short hours, he was not about to rush through it. With agonizingly slow, yet forceful drives, he took her amidst sputtering candles and her increasingly vocal confirmation of her joy. He possessed her, lost himself in her slick warmth, releasing all the pent up frustration he harbored for half a year. 

And quickly it came, for them both, no matter how much he wanted to draw it out. Tensing all over, Yen shattered around him, crying out her pleasure in waves of sobs, back arched, arms outstretched, hands searching for anything to grasp onto, her curls a tangled mass about the table. He gripped her legs harder around him and uttered a deep groan, trembling on his feet until he had to drop a leg and clutch the table to keep steady.

Panting heavily, her hand sought his arm and found it. Grasping him, she pulled herself up and rested on an elbow, her hair tumbling over the table behind her. Her cheeks rosy, lips red as rubies, her eyes a fathomless deep bluish-purple, heated with desire.

“My chamber,” she breathed, tossing her head in the direction of an arched door located on the far wall. "Is over there." 

“Perfect,” he grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Gathering her into his arms, he carried her to the bedchamber. He lit one fairly unused candle by the bedside knowing she would want one lit all night. She hated the darkness, where he thrived in it. Just another example of how different they were. 

Stretching her out upon the large ultra soft bed, he slowly removed each article of her clothing one by one, and kissed her supple exposed skin afterwards before moving onto the next piece. Then he removed all his clothes, glad to be freed of the uncomfortable fancy frippery shit. 

And just like he had planned, he loved her all night long, worshiping her, losing himself in her. Uplifted and strengthened at her return of his affections brought him mental clarity, physical strength and exhaustion, filling him and emptying him at the same time. 

Her locks, a curtain of midnight around his head, her breasts whispering above his lips, she rocked upon him one last time, quaking amidst whimpering moans. Letting himself go, he sighed, gathering all her hair in a fist so he could see her passion-flushed face with ecstasy etched upon her features.

He whispered her name as a devoted disciple breathes the name of their beloved god in their prayers. For tonight she was his prayer.

She purred in his ear completely content.

_ Do you…? Yen? I need to know. _

Glistening violet eyes held his and they softened, heavy lidded with desire. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips swollen with the fierceness of his kisses. This time, her smile was not of triumph, but of genuine happiness.

_ Is it possible I make you…? Yen? _

Peering at her, he searched for the answers in the swirl of emotion in the depths of her violet gaze.

“Yes, Geralt. I do. And now you know. It is possible… You make me… happy when we are together like this.”

He smiled. Resting her cheek against his chest, fingers, light and cool, traced the scars there. He stroked her hair in repeated even rhythms. The candle burned almost completely out, the melted wax dripped down the sides and pooled upon the nightstand in a ring around the candle stand.

He sighed, but this time, contentment was poisoned by the gray light of dawn creeping through the windows. _ Morning’s but a moment away, Yen. And I’ll be without you again. For who knows how long? How long must I wait to love you like this again? _

Her pale skin, flushed with pleasure, only heightened her beauty. Her gaze, heavy-lidded, grew earnest, intense. “Say it, Geralt. I would hear it with your voice.”

“As I would hear yours,” he countered. 

Pushing herself up, she drew very close to his face. So close, her breath warmed his lips. Her scent overwhelmed his senses. “More than you’ll ever know, I do love you, Geralt…”

An intense beat passed between them as they held each other’s gazes with serious intent. The question she would never ask glinted in her eyes, the need bringing wetness to her lashes. Though he couldn’t read her mind, he knew it. Knew her enough to know. 

_ My desire for you is unending, Yen… I need you desperately... _

“Still,” he breathed against her lips.

Sealing his declaration with a passionate kiss that sent him reeling, the golden light of dawn streaked through colorful stained glass windows, bathing them both in its golden glow mixed with the jeweled hues of the glass. It glistened off her raven locks as they blessed him with the tantalizing fragrance imprinted forever in his memory. It bronzed her creamy pale complexion in a warm glow, glinted in her violet depths full of genuine affection and deep love.

For the longest time, they held each other, silently, stroking hair, a hand or an arm, and simply listened. Listened to each other’s heart beat and regular breathing, just being in the moment. No thoughts of past or future, just thoughts of now, tonight, and the passion that passed between them.

It seemed like hours had passed, but it hadn’t. When he awoke from the dream-filled slumber in which he floated, he stared at the empty space next to him, the bed sheets crumpled and cold. Her scent still strong, she hadn’t been there for a while. Closing his eyes, he exhaled a long shaky breath. The loss of her warmth pressed against him threatened to undo the memory of last night. Too intense, he could only dread the lonely months ahead. Burying his nose in her pillow, he inhaled her sweet fragrance storing it in his memory once again. 

Swinging his legs to the floor, he sat on the edge of the bed raking a hand through his hair. His eyes focused on a parchment lying beside the candle stand that was not there before. He huffed out an ironic chuckle. He got his just desserts. Yeah, she always managed to get the last word. He once left her a note just like this many years ago.

Picking up the letter, he read her flowing and graceful script of strict instructions on where to begin his search for Ciri. This would help tremendously. Sniffing it, he smiled. Lilac and gooseberries. All right, the contents of this message vastly differed from the letter he had left all those years ago.

But it didn’t take long for his smile to wane. Glancing at the bright windows, his soul ached again. 

_It's morning, Yen. And once again without you. _


End file.
